Page:Poems for the Sea.djvu/144

140 Grapple closer, careful steer, Launch the harpoon, laugh at fear, Plunge it deep, the barbed spear, Strike the lance, in swift career, Give her line! Give her line! Down she goes through the foaming brine, Sponge the side, where the flying coil Mark's the monster's speed and toil; But though she dive to the deepest ground, Where the plummet fails to sound, 'Tis all in vain! All in vain! She hath that within her side, Will surely bring her up again.

Spout! Spout! Spout! The waves are maddening all about, Every billow on its head Strangely wears a crest of red; How she lashes the seething main, In her flurry and her pain;